


Despacito

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 01:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10753650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Work hard, play hard





	Despacito

I try my best to look anywhere but at Dean. The way he squints his eyes as he concentrates on files and case reports of a recent string of murder-suicides that are a little too open-and-shut from the Winchester’s liking. So, until we can narrow down a possible cause we aren’t heading out. Considering Sam’s recent back injury and his insistence on attending, the compromise came down to plan ahead then head out. Unfortunately, without a clear look at the scene, our discovers are limited which makes it ten times hard to identify or prepare for a specific type of monster.

Frustrated and in need of a break, I stand up, close my laptop and head towards the fridge. “Dean, you want a beer?” I grab two beer bottles already knowing Dean’s answer. A low guttural grunt is all is gives as he wipes his face with his hand. The clear pop of both bottle’s lids being taken off already makes the stress feel like it is fading away.

Dean gratefully takes the beer out of your hand and takes a giant swig. His eyes close and he rubs his temples. Before I realize the gravity of where my thoughts are going, I am already in Dean’s lap. As I am starting to fully understand what I am doing, Dean brings his hands to the small of my back, pulling me into his chest. His kiss doesn’t feel real as it lingers around my neck. His soft lips trace the outline of my shoulders leaving delicate pecks whenever his heart pleases. Dean’s hands slid under my shirt, quickly unhooking my bra.

Not wanting to be the only one being hastily undressed, I reach for Dean’s jeans, making sure to give his growing bulge an “unintentional” stroke. Dean lays me down against the cool kitchen table, slips out of his jeans and boxers, before taking both my thong and shorts off. His thick cock teases my wet pussy. Dean slowly enters me. He pulls my shirt away from my chest, exposing my breasts to the room. It doesn’t take long before Dean’s mouth is on my chest, nipping at my nipples as he slowly pumps his dick inside me.

“Fuck, promise me we can do this again.” Dean smirks against my chest at my expectant request. He moves away from my chest and rubs his thumb against my clit sending a delightful tingle through my lower body. As my pussy clamps down on him in response to the extra stimulation Dean gets a smug look on his face.

“Any time you want, just ask.”

Without warning, he pounds into me, the sound of our skin slap against each other and the table scraping against the floor mixes with the uncontrollable moans coming from both of us. Before I realize it within my ecstasy filled haze, but Dean’s head is by mine, his panting breath moving my hair and heating the outer edge of my ear. Right as we reach our climax the sound of a blaring car horn shatters the moment.

Dean flips off the guy in a red sports car as he swerves in front of us. “No fucking manners.”  
I close my eyes, groaning internally at the fact that I literally had a daytime wet dream. Completely conscious, not even taking a light nap, just fantasizing about Dean screwing me. And the best thing of all, my underwear is wet. Wet and only reminding me how turned on I still am but I can’t discretely masturbate because Dean keeps glancing through the rear view mirror. I rest my head in indignation and throw caution to the window. Fuck it, if he sees, he sees, but I really need to get off.

I slide my fingers into my underwear, gliding across my clit and then slipping a finger into my drenched pussy. My other hand goes beneath my shirt and bra, massaging my breast. A tiny moan leaves my mouth and I feel the car jerk. Startled I immediately remove my hands from under my clothing. Despite the car being perfectly fine, and a snoozing Sam still napping the day away, only one thing is off. A cherry-faced Dean is no longer slouching in his seat, but sitting stick straight and stealing very quick, tentative glances back at me. I smirk realizing why his demeanor changed. Well, I was planning on finishing anyways, but might as well make a show of it now. For that special audience of one.


End file.
